Words from the authoress:

I figured I should post something as I haven't had any fresh material since January. Yikes! Don't worry, though IAR fans. I merely had to walk away from that fic for a little while. Currently, I have several drafts of the next chapter plotted out and the whole thing is beginning to resemble one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books. Before anyone asks, no, I'm not writing one of those.

This story is set in The Savoy, after Ben's phone conversation with Patrick. By the end of this scene, I had noticed a slight, albeit, disturbing trend developing. Each time Riley inquires of Patrick's welfare, Ben brushes him off or ignores him. It seems like he's trying to reach out, but Ben is completely oblivious, too focused on the matter at hand to see past the end of his nose.

Now, you might expect me to say that this story is written from Riley's perspective. However, you would be wrong. I decided to write this from Ben's POV. I wanted him to sense something was amiss and not have the slightest idea as to its cause or what to do about it. In a way, it's an extension of the first vignette.

As per my usual, I don't own any of the NT characters. In fact, I don't own anything in this fic except for the Great Pizza Topping Debate and that might belong to the world, for all I know.

Now, on to the story!

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Enough is more than enough, he thought as he sighed, agitated, through his nose. He lifted his reading glasses and rubbed his tired eyes with his free hand as if the motion might also wipe away the discontent gnawing at his mind. He replaced his glasses on his face and watched over his friend's shoulder as the younger man's hands flew over the small laptop's keyboard. However, it wasn't the content on the computer screen, nor the covert plans for their caper that made Ben Gates so uneasy.

He glanced down at the top of Riley's head and frowned. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, he wondered what was up with his best friend. The younger man hadn't spoken a word in several hours. He just sat, typing furiously, his iPod turned to such an ear-shattering level that Ben could actually hear the lyrics stream from the tiny earbuds. That couldn't be healthy and there was no way Riley needed his music that loud to concentrate. Like on the plane from Paris, it was a pointed maneuver to shut Ben out.

Ben was befuddled. Why was Riley giving him the cold shoulder for this time?

Ben went through the events in his mind, starting when the plane landed at Heathrow Airport. As the two waited in line in Customs, Riley had broken his first silent streak by whining incessantly about the line's length, how long everything was taking and the rough way in which the inspector had handled his luggage and the items inside.

Upon leaving the airport, they rented a car and drove the eighteen miles to the Savoy. They had even been decently conversational toward one another, like the whole incident in Paris had never happened. Ben wasn't sure if he was reassured or disturbed by that fact

When they got to the hotel and got their suite, they got to work straight away on their plans to break into the study. It was then that Ben got the phone call from his dad. He thought he remembered Riley saying something to him, but he had been too mired with worry about his father's welfare to hear what it was.

That phone call had been the pivot point, he realized, because he had noticed Riley's mood shift shortly thereafter. The younger man had grown almost sullen. He had busied himself with the intricacies of their plan, his earbuds planted firmly in his ears and his iPod turned to maximum volume. While it wasn't unlike Riley to be absorbed in his work, it was uncharacteristic of him to be so quiet about it for so long.

Ben couldn't figure it out. He hadn't said or done anything to offend him, at least he didn't think so. Then again, he was operating on a distinct lack of sleep, as well, and not firing on all cylinders. Suffice it to say he could have missed something that would otherwise have been blatantly obvious.

However, they couldn't keep going on like this. They had to work together and that meant that they had to speak to each other. He was determined to make the Riley talk to him one way or another. Ben reached over and removed an earbud from his friend's ear and let it drop past his shoulder. "Are you hungry?"

Riley whirled around in his chair, glaring, annoyed from the interruption to his work and the blatant intrusion to his personal space. "No, actually. I've heard enough horror stories about the English cuisine to inspire me to pass. I'll wait until we're back on the plane. At least, then, I might be able to obtain something that resembles food and isn't given a name resembling a diseased aspect of the human anatomy."

Ben smiled, somewhat relieved, but that was short lived as Riley took the moment of silence as an opportunity to grab the loose earbud and slip it back into place, thus evading the imminent interrogation. Ben gritted his teeth, hissing a sigh through them. He was sorely tempted to lay waste to the infernal contraption that made his attempt at discussion impossible. With the eerily pleasant thought of drowning an iPod in the Thames dancing in his mind, he tapped Riley on the shoulder.

The younger man looked up from his laptop to him with an expression of utmost annoyance and paused his music player. "Have I ever told you the story about the old, annoying man, the kick-ass song and the pit of eternal flame?"

Ben gritted his teeth, but chose to ignore the crack at his age. He had to keep this civil. "I was thinking about scaring up a pizza shop."

Riley, however, shook his head emphatically. "Not if you're picking the toppings. Who eats olives and anchovies on their pizza, anyway?"

"I can't say I'm crazy about pineapple, either," Ben countered.

"I'm afraid we've hit an impasse, then," Riley said, drily as music, again flowed from the tiny speakers and he focused his attention on his work.

Ben sighed. Around and around we go. "Pepperoni," he shouted, but he had to stand an inch from Riley's ear to hope to be heard. "That won't offend your sensibilities, will it?"

There was a pause, before Riley's almost whispered response. "Guess not, Anchovy Man."

Ben nodded, but he frowned on the inside. What had that been about? Ben had only heard that tone used once. They had been under the Trinity Church in the false treasure room and Riley had made the remark about someone else finding the treasure first.

Ben moved to Riley side and looked at his face. There was a distant far-away look in his friend's eyes as he worked, like he wasn't really seeing what he was looking at. There was a sadness there that Ben wasn't accustomed to seeing and his worry grew. What the Hell was going on?

Ben reached over and, again, plucked the earbud from Riley's left ear. "If I had done something to offend you, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

Riley raised his head, looking at Ben questioningly. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Riley turned down the volume on his iPod. "You already asked me that and I gave you my answer. You didn't do anything.'

"Then, what's up with you?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Like Hell you don't. "Riley, you aren't acting like yourself and I can't help but feel that I had something to do with it. I mean, you told me you were cool with helping me with this. I hope you weren't lying to me."

"No, no it's not that. I told you before that I wanted to help and I meant that." Riley shifted in his chair, either uncomfortable from his slumped posture or the direction their conversation had taken. "I'm just thinking about stuff."

"Like the IRS?" Ben probed. He knew that Riley faced some hard consequences due to his accountant's shady practices. Not only was Riley's home being sold out from under him, but there was talk of him serving jail time. Ben wished he could help, but his remaining funds only covered half of what Riley owed. Besides, he didn't even have a new place, yet, let alone somewhere for Riley to stay until he got back on his feet. Somehow, he doubted that his father would be enthralled at the prospect of taking on another long-term houseguest.

"Among other things."

Ben's frown deepened. "What things?"

Riley sighed. For a moment, he looked like he might reveal what was weighing so heavily on his mind. Then, he shook his head. "Nothing important," he said with an obviously forced half smile. "Now, if you'll please, let me get back to work. At this stage, Interpol could easily intercept you and you would be the topic of an international incident."

"Well, you know how stealing the Declaration was merely a gateway crime," Ben quipped. He frowned at Riley's lack of a clever response as the younger man resumed damaging his cochleae with the heavy guitar riffs that emanated from the small music player. Usually, Riley would be all over such an open comment.

Ben couldn't quell the disquiet building in his mind. There was a distance between them that hadn't existed before, a chasm and it grew wider with each passing minute. The trouble was he had no idea how to fix it. His earlier confidence that he could just get Riley to open up about his feelings had eroded considerably. If their friendship hadn't possessed that dynamic before the rift, there was very little chance of establishing it, now.

"Jeez, Ben, what is with you!"

Ben startled out of his reverie to find a very annoyed Riley Poole staring at him. He had removed both earbuds and now stared at Ben, his bright, blue eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

Ben blushed, fiercely. "W-what do you mean?"

"You have the worst staring problem lately. Is there something uniquely interesting about me that you would be willing to share? Is there a hair out of place? Do I have an alien growing out of my head? Seriously, I can feel your eyes boring into my skull and it's creeping me out. You know, I hate being stared at. Knock it off!"

"I'm sorry, Riley. I guess I'm just a little worried about you." Yeah, a little worried. If that isn't the understatement of the year, then I don't know what is.

Riley turned back to his computer. "There's nothing to worry about, Ben. I'm fine, the world's still turning and it's all good."

There was the slightest clip to Riley's voice, yet, Ben played his hand. Maybe, just maybe, he could make coercion work if he put a bit more effort into it. Still, he knew he walked an angel hair's width of a line between helping his friend and driving him away. "You keep saying that, but I can't quite bring myself to believe it."

"That's because you're reading way more into this than is necessary. Turn your brain off, Ben. It might appreciate the rest. Really, I can smell it burning."

Ouch. Ben was undeterred by Riley's barb. "Riley, I'm not joking. What's going on with you?"

"Wow, do you really find it necessary to address me like I'm a small child?"

Ben winced. Had he done that? He hadn't talked to Riley any differently than usual. There was something, a small clue clamoring for attention from somewhere in the back of his brain, but Ben was too focused on his main objective to pay that nagging voice much heed.

"I'm just trying to figure out why you're being so distant."

"I just don't feel like being a social butterfly, today. There's no law against that."

The venom in Riley's voice was the cue to drop the subject, but Ben pressed on. "I never said it was. It's just that you don't exactly possess a reputation for long, drawn-out silences."

Riley stiffened. "Funny, the new and exciting habits one can pick up when existing in near isolation for an extended period of time. After a while, silence is preferable to talking to yourself."

An uncomfortable silence descended on the pair and Riley's fingers had stopped their incessant typing, though they still rested, lightly, on the keys. His head was bowed. Ben highly suspected that his friend had never meant to utter those words. That thought only added to the sting he now felt, not because he was indignant, but because he knew Riley was one-hundred percent right.

He, Benjamin Franklin Gate, sucked as a friend, because he hadn't been one. His mind drifted back to Riley's face when he saw Ben sitting on his stoop. When they had locked eyes, there was the briefest glimmer of consternation on his friend's face. At the time, he had chalked it up to Riley having been at his car being towed, but, now that he saw it in a different context and he felt like a heel. He knew what Riley must have thought. A year and he only visited Riley when he needed something from him, despite the younger man's attempts to maintain contact. He was reminded of the old cliché, "Time waits for no man." That had never felt more true to him than now as he studied his friend. Riley's life had changed. He had changed and Ben had totally missed the boat.

Ben sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I should have been better about staying in touch. I'm sorry."

Riley cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, forget about it. Stuff happens. That's just a fact of life. Besides, you know how it is when the friend gets a girlfriend. He drops completely off the Earth and you never see him again."

"That doesn't excuse it. I should have made time for both of you."

Riley chuckled. "Yeah, somehow I doubt that Abigail would have been keen on me tagging along on one of your dates. Dude, you can either have friends or a girlfriend. You can't have it both ways."

Ben smiled. "You know when we clear up this mystery and I get settled into a new place, we should hang out. We haven't done anything together as friends that hasn't involved a treasure hunt and I no longer have a girlfriend vying for my time."

Riley lifted his head and turned in his chair to look him. Ben had been expecting a snide remark, anything, but the look that haunted Riley's eyes. While the younger man's face was an expressionless mask, those sapphire eyes were sad, laced with marked disappointment. They bore the look of someone who had learned to not hope for what would never happen. Ben's confusion only grew. When had he ever given Riley the idea that he couldn't trust his word?

"Yeah, well, first things first," he replied before turning his attention solely back to the computer. He placed his earbuds back in his ears and, a moment later, the iPod again blasted away. That marked the end of the discussion, whether Ben liked it or not.

"You said something about pizza, right?" he shouted.

"Yeah," Ben said softly, knowing that Riley couldn't possibly hear him. He grabbed a phone directory from the desk and started flipping through it, looking for pizzerias close by. Finding one, he picked up the room's phone receiver and dialed the number.

"Hello. Let me ask, do you deliver to The Savoy hotel? You do? Excellent! Yes, I would like to order a large pizza. By chance, do you have pineapple?" Ben looked at the back of Riley's head as the younger man worked, oblivious to the conversation. "Great! I'd like to order a large pineapple and extra cheese pizza…"